Home again. Although, these days it's kind of hard to figure out what that means, exactly. With only two months left to live in Sydney (we are planning to leave for Tasmania on the 15th of November before coming back to the US December 1st), we are increasingly sensitive to the fact that this isn't really our home for much longer. And when we do head back to the US, it's to a life of nomadic vagrancy until we finish our degrees and find a place to live. I really won't remember the things I've put into storage by the time I take them out!
Living nomadically like this, we learn to find little pieces of "home" wherever we can. Two weeks ago D received a box from her sister with boxes of Kraft Mac & Cheese, a bottle of Hershey's Syrup, Lawry's Seasoned Salt, and some of D's favorite coconut-scented tea-- little habits of home that can make you feel not quite so unrooted. We tape up photographs and cards of people from home. We buy our Economist magazine on Sundays and find our favorite cafe on Glebe Point Road to read it in. We pay a little extra to have a TV, a nice comforter on the bed, American-style Betty Crocker brownie mix in the cupboard. And we constantly remember that having the other person with us (and not halfway across the world) is the single best part of being "home."
In the past week, driving down the dry, dusty backbone of the Australian continent, we spent nights in the most questionable places we've stayed in so far, and nights in the best places we've stayed in yet. From the roadhouses of the central Stuart Highway, three hours' drive from Uluru and three hours' drive from Alice, to the B&Bs of the Barossa Valley wine region north of Adelaide-- we've slept in all kinds of beds. The bad ones made us long for our "own" bed stored in a western New Jersey basement because they were just bad, and the good ones made us long for it because we had to leave them in the morning. There's nothing like living away from home to make you realize how much you take for granted.
On Wednesday we picked up Chad's fraternity brother Mark from the Conellan airport at Uluru-- and miraculously, all of our delicate machinations to arrange this pickup actually went off without a hitch. Wednesday and Thursday the three of us spent exploring Uluru and its neighbor 35km to the east, Kata Tjuta. You don't see Kata Tjuta in too many photographs, but when you're actually standing there, it's hard not to see it-- beautiful rounded red rocks jutting out of the desert plain.
When we'd had enough of the red rocks and the midday desert heat, we began the 1500km drive east to the Stuart Highway and then south to Adelaide. The Stuart highway is a federally administered road frequented by road trains and "wandering stock," lined on both sides by cattle stations so large they appear on national maps.1 These days, there is a roadhouse every 100km or so, providing gas, food, and basic accommodation for the tourists and others who feel the need to drive around the Outback.
By Friday we'd made it to the town of Coober Pedy,2 where more than half the population lives underground in dugout homes to escape the extreme temperatures of the desert. As we drove into Coober Pedy, we saw thousands of little white hills of white sand, and signs warning us not to run or walk backwards. Coober Pedy, you see, is an opal mining town-- 90% of the world's opals come from Australia, and 70% of Australia's opals are mined in this little desert town. Opals have been mined here with deep and narrow vertical shafts, many of which have not been covered or backfilled-- and half a dozen people have died from falling down those shafts.
They're an odd (but very friendly) bunch in Coober Pedy-- and suprisingly international, even among the permanent residents. We slept underground, we ate underground, we toured an historical mine and a currently working mine. More than one resident invited us to take a look at their underground home-- even those who were not set up for display. And, we bought some opals, which are surprisingly expensive gemstones, for those of you who have never bought them. They are cheaper in Coober Pedy than almost anywhere else-- and the range of selection is almost unparalleled, even in Sydney-- but they are still not cheap by any stretch of the imagination.
We emerged from underground and ended up in the infamous town of Woomera.3 Chad wanted to go there because it is a rocket-testing range, although it has also been a rather secretive US military base, a British nuclear bomb test launching site, and, after the Cold War ended, the location of an immigration detention centre.4 The detention centre and the military operations there have been greatly reduced (and the US base closed down a few years ago), but the little barracks town supports a small population and a little tourist industry. We spent a few hours Sunday morning exploring the outdoor missile museum and the Woomera Heritage & Visitors Centre.
And then, continuing south, we found ourselves emerging out of the Outback and back into "civilization"-- in Port Augusta we saw our first McDonald's since leaving Alice, and a few hours later we were sipping wine in the Clare Valley wine region.5 We further celebrated our return to decadence by checking ourselves in to a little B&B with terry cloth robes, homemade cookies, and complimentary port and champagne.6
Yesterday began with more wine tasting in the Barossa Valley, and since D was again driving, Chad and Mark thoroughly enjoyed their extensive tastings... which is how Chad found himself a little drunk before noon on a Monday morning. (At least he did it the civilized way.) Despite the boys' being unable to navigate after tasting all that wine, D managed to get them all into Adelaide by the afternoon, and we had just enough time to check out the South Australian Museum, which houses the largest collection of aboriginal artefacts of anywhere in the world. And, an opalized fossil of Eric the pleiosaur, found in Cooper Pedy.
We had only half a day left in Adelaide this morning, and we decided to spent it eating well-- with a tour of the Adelaide Central Market, which was just as good as our fondly-remembered tour of Melbourne's Victoria Markets six months ago. This tour included a free sample of Haight's fine chocolates, which were fine enough that D felt the need to take a box home with her, although the saleslady was deeply concerned about D's intention to take a box of assorted creams on an airplane.
Now, we're back in Sydney, appreciating our bed and our towels and our pitcher of iced tea in an (otherwise empty) fridge, trying once again to inflate the doubly-borrowed air mattress that we call our guest bed. Time to show Sydney to Mark...
;)
- D
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NOTES
1The largest, Anna Creek station, is the size of Belgium.
2Takes its name from the aboriginal phrase "kupa piti," which loosely translates as "white man in a hole."
3Aboriginal word for "spear-thrower."
4Immigration is a volatile topic here in Australia, and detention centres doubly so-- these issues make the national news once a fortnight, at least.
5And by "we," I mean "Chad and Mark," because D was driving and she doesn't like wine anyway. But she did find a nice cellar kitty to play with at the Seven Hills winery Cellar Door.
6Peppertrees B&B in Kapunda, SA, if any of you find yourself in that area. We recommend it heartily!
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